


Family + J.

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, George Eads Appreciation Week, Parental Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: Today's family moment has been brought to you by the letter J.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 99





	Family + J.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I haven't slept in like 30 some hours and I'm on my 8th cup of coffee and just struggled to spell "slept" for like a solid ninety seconds, please forgive any errors or nonsense you may find in this. But I wanted to try to get it out on this last day of GEAW. Thanks everyone for reading along with me this week!

"Winston," Jack shouts, pointing an emphatic finger at Mac.

Mac frowns and shakes his head.

"Sebastian?"

Mac raises an eyebrow.

"Reginald?"

Riley bursts out laughing.

"Where are you getting these names, Jack?" Mac asks, with a half-laugh and incredulous look.

"I just thought with your parents' baby naming skills, or lack of, you've probably got a doozy of a middle name."

"After saddling him with a name like Angus, it's probably something more traditional like Matthew or John," Riley says, grasping the neck of her beer bottle and taking a swig. "No offense, Mac."

"Saddling?" Jack smirks opening his mouth to play on the pun that's been lobbed in his direction.

"Shut up, Jack," Riley says playfully.

Mac shakes his head with a smile at the antics of his friends. The mood light and loose and exactly what they needed after a too-long mission. He reaches for his beer, rubbing his shoulder as the stitches pull. He feels Jack’s eyes land on him, studying his posture, assessing his pain. Mac raises the bottle to his lips, daring Jack to call him on his discomfort or the lack of prescribed sling supporting his arm. 

The dim light of the flickering flames cast long shadows, and nearly obscure his face, but Mac knows the exact size of the fist-shaped bruises on Jack’s cheek and chin. The way the shiner around his eye doesn’t distract from the reddened sclera from a burst blood vessel. Those are the ones Riley can see. She doesn’t know about the bruises over his kidney and the doctor’s orders to watch for bleeding when he pees, or the ones against his ribs that makes deep breaths painful.  


If Jack makes a stink about the sling, Mac will be only too happy to ask where his ice packs disappeared. 

Jack tips his head and raises his bottle in a toast, ceding to Mac, and acknowledging their mutual destruction. Mac twists the bottle in his hand, fingers picking at the label.

The lights twinkle from the pergola. Soft. Warm

Riley bumps Jack’s shoulder with her own, then leans her head against his, seeking the comfort of his presence. She may not know exactly what happened to them, but she knows they spent some time sequestered in an exam room with the doctor, even if they keep telling her they're fine.  


Swallowing a wince, Jack wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her just a little closer, breathing in the scent of her hair and saying a soft prayer of gratitude that she’s safe. That his family is home.

The back door opens. 

"What's going on?" Bozer bounds up the stairs joining the team around the fire.

"Jack's been trying to guess Mac's middle name for the last ten minutes," Riley says laughing. "And the guesses are getting worse."

"Come on, dude, give me a clue," Jack begs. "This is turning out to be less fun than I thought."

"I told you're welcome to guess, and I'll tell you if you get it, but I'm not giving you any clues." Mac says. He passes the bag of chips over to Bozer’s grabby hands. 

Jack snaps his fingers. "Harry."

"Harry with a 'J?'" Bozer laughs, crinkling the bag. 

"Oh, it starts a 'J?'" Jack asks, looking at his partner and waiting for a response.

Mac shrugs his uninjured shoulder, tracing patterns in the condensation. 

"It's a 'J,'" Bozer confirms

"Boze!" Mac scolds him for giving a clue.

"Oh, let him help, otherwise we'll be here all night," Riley says taking another sip from her beer.

"He's gonna be here all night anyway," Mac mumbles. “Let’s not pretend that he’s not already planning to fall asleep on the couch and complain that he’s too tired to drive home.”

"Let's not pretend he's not commandeering the other side of your bed," Jack refers to himself in the third person. 

"Not happening," Mac argues, knowing it's futile.

"If it's a 'J' it's probably James then..." Jack ignores Mac's comment, turning his attention back to the game, but his voice trails off with a wince, worried about bringing up a touchy subject. Wondering if that’s why Mac’s been cagey about this game, suddenly wondering if his insistent teasing was a bad idea. 

"It's not James." Mac says quickly, decisively. Then reluctantly gives another clue. "But I was named after my grandfather."

"Harry with a 'J.'"

Mac laughs. "No, Jack."

A curious look crosses Riley's face. She leans away from Jack, grabbing her bag and pulling open her rig.

"Hey, no cheating!" Jack protests. "This is my game."

"I thought that was a joke," she says, turning to Mac.

"You knew?" Mac asks. 

"One of the first things I did after that first mission was a deep dive on you guys. I wanted to know what I was getting into."

"Oh, so it's pretty bad then?" Jack teases. "Bad enough that Riley thought it was a joke."

"I guess it depends on who you ask. A few years ago, I might have thought it was bad. Now it might be kind of sweet," Riley says, smiling at Jack.

"Angus J. MacGyver. Harry J. MacGyver..." Jack muses.

"Oh, Harry wasn't a MacGyver. He was my mom's dad."

"Alright, I give, just tell me what it is, man."

Mac shakes his head. A soft breath escapes his lips between an exasperated huff and a fond sigh. He’s made too big of a deal out of this now. He’s expecting… he doesn’t know exactly what he’s expecting. Teasing? Yes. Without a doubt. But maybe Jack won’t notice. Won’t realize. He’ll just razz him for making such a big deal out of this nickname guessing game. That wouldn’t be so bad. It might be easier if Jack doesn’t even get why Mac made a big deal about it. 

The odds of him not noticing are slim to none, though Mac does have the fact that Jack has a mild concussion, bruising, straight-up exhaustion and half a beer on his side. Maybe Jack won’t be as observant. He can hope, right?

No, the odds are better that he will notice. It’s the response Mac isn’t sure how to prepare for.

Maybe he’ll get a little sappy, a little emotional. Jack is always prone to strong emotions even without the aforementioned concussion and exhaustion. It might get a little embarrassing, but Mac can live with that. It wouldn’t be the first time Jack’s been sentimental and maudlin, especially over something like this. He might make some sort of mushy speech. Might look kind of proud even. 

Or maybe he won’t care. 

And that, that would be the worst outcome. The one that’s made Mac coy and reserved. That has his stomach tied up in knots. The reason he’s been worrying the beer bottle in his hand instead of drinking it. Because, though he pretends that it doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t mean anything, it has come to mean… something. Exactly what Mac’s not sure, but, something. And it’s going to hurt if Jack doesn’t recognize it. 

Or worse, if he’s somehow offended by the idea that it means something to Mac. 

His thoughts are spiraling, he knows this. He can feel his brain spinning in circles and tying itself up in knots. His grip tightens again on the bottle, thumb worrying stubbornly stuck remains of the label. He wonders what kind of adhesive they use and the best method to dissolve it. 

Mac opens his mouth and closes it again. He gives a small shake of his head. He just needs to get it over with. It’s going to come out eventually. Especially now that it’s on Jack’s radar. He’s not going to let it go. Better to do it now, just tell him, when he has some semblance of control over it.

Jack leans forward. If he were a cat his tail would be twitching, waiting to pounce. A thousand puns and dad jokes rushing through his head. Pausing with expectation.  


Licking his lips Mac finally answers. “Jackson. My middle name is Jackson.” He focuses his attention on the drops of condensation on the bottle, peering up at Jack through lowered eyelashes.

Riley and Bozer sit silently, watching the scene unfold. 

Jack pauses, considering, then a slow smile curls on his lips. “Jackson?” he asks, slowly.

“Yes,” Mac manages to slide an eyeroll into his voice as he looks up.

“Jack’s son?” He stands moving around the fire pit, his face soft, and his eyes glistening. He opens his arms wide. “C’mere, son.” 

Mac shakes his head. “Jack…” He protests as Jack hauls him to his feet, but he doesn’t resist the forward momentum. Jack ignores his protesting ribs and wraps his arms around Mac, pulling him into a tight hug. Cradling his head. Mac’s voice muffled against Jack’s chest.

“My boy.” 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> About a year ago I realized that the OG Harry's last name was "Jackson" and I thought that's too good not to use eventually for some sappy moment. If they're going to take the jacket away from Harry and/or Jack, then I'm taking Mac's middle name away from James. (I don't think they've ever told us what the "J" stands for though.)


End file.
